Prom Princess
by SLopez
Summary: "They met on the first day of their sophomore year." High School AU. August/Emma


**Title:** Prom Princess  
**Rating:** PG  
**Summary:** They met on the first day of their sophomore year.  
**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to OUAT, except my Wooden Swan feels.**  
Author's notes:** Written for hunksandwich/foreverstartsrightnow, based on the prompt "High School AU. Prom. Fancy dresses, corsages, awkward high schooler dancing, a kiss at the end of the night." I'm sorry it took so long. And it's all fluff and cheese and I honestly think it sucks, but I hope you like it.  
Happy Holidays to everyone!

* * *

_Storybrooke High must be the lamest place on Earth_, Emma thinks to herself, as she wanders through the hallways. Every girl in that school is all giddy and mushy over the fact that the prom is just around the corner and this year's theme is "The Enchanted Forest," meaning everyone attending the ball will have to use something related to fairytales. Head bitch cheerleader Alexandra has already let everyone in the school know that she would wear glass slippers, so that "no one else could claim the Cinderella role", as she simply put it.

Not that Emma minds. She's a senior, but she has no plans to attend that prom, and it's not like there's a guy who has the guts to ask her. She's a bit disappointed that August hasn't said anything, though. He's the only boy in that school who isn't afraid of her, but he also doesn't talk down on her. He treats her as an equal and that's why she became friends with him in the first place.

They met on the first day of their sophomore year. She had just moved to Storybrooke with her parents, after almost getting her ass thrown in jail thanks to her deadbeat of a – much older – boyfriend. Emma was stacking some books inside her locker when she felt a presence beside her. She shuts the locker forcefully and sets a hard glare to intimidate whoever was trying to disturb her, only to find the most beautiful blue eyes she'd seen.

"Hey," he said. "You're new here."

She was having none of his bullshit and small talk had never been one of her traits. Maybe if she showed her bad side, he'd just leave her alone.

"Wow, did you manage to figure that out by yourself?"

However, he was not fazed by her words and gave her a shit-eating grin, defying her.

"What if I show you around and then take you out for a cup of coffee?"

"Sorry, I don't go out with guys who don't tell me their names."

She turned on her heels and was about to leave the guy behind, when she heard his voice again.

"It's August. August W. Booth."

"Really? With the middle initial?" What was it with this guy?

"W's for Wayne." He told her and smirked at her. "There goes your reason for not having a cup of coffee with me."

Reluctantly, Emma smiled back at him. And that was how their friendship was born.

Something's different, though. Lately, he's been distant and barely talks to her, but she's already caught him staring at her with a dreamy look on his face that makes her want to punch him. Especially because she's caught herself doing the same. Could she be falling for him? And is he falling for her?

Ugh, that's why she doesn't do relationships. It makes people insecure and paranoid and just plain crazy, if her previous experience is any indication.

Whatever, she's not going to prom anyway. What difference does it make if August likes her or not?

"Hey, Princess."

Speaking of the devil.

"Why do you keep calling me that? You know I hate it."

He smirks. "That's why."

There's something different about him, no matter how much he tries to cover it. He seems on edge and fidgety and Emma can't pinpoint what exactly might be wrong with him.

"Let me walk you to your math class," he says, with apparent ease, but she hears the stress on his voice and it worries her.

When they're about to reach the classroom, August stops her and then shoves his hands down his pockets, awkwardly.

"Emma, I've been meaning to ask you something." His voice is hoarse and she can tell he's nervous. She's never seen him like this before. "Would you like to be my date next Saturday?"

Her jaw goes slack and for a moment she doesn't know what to say. Her mouth, however, knows exactly what to say and speaks on its own accord. "Yes, I'd love to."

August relaxes visibly after her answer and gives her a big smile. "I'll pick you up at five and we'll have dinner at Granny's."

She nods and watches him leave, with a smile on her face. And now she's all excited for prom, just like every other girl in Storybrooke High. _Ugh…_

* * *

The big day finally arrives and her doorbell rings at five pm sharp, making Emma's heart leap inside her chest. She feels like the typical hopelessly-in-love teenager, and it's a foreign feeling for her. Oddly, she doesn't mind.

Her mother bursts into her room.

"Emma, baby, you'd better hurry because your father is asking all kinds of questions to the young man."

She frowns. "But why? You guys already know him."

"Yes, but he was only your friend before," replies Mary Margaret with a knowing look, while Emma's cheeks gain a rosy blush. "Now come on, let's not keep the boy waiting for too long to see how beautiful you are."

She still doesn't know how her mother got her that dress in such short notice, but she suspects Mary Margaret had the dress for a while now. It's a light yellow gown, with spaghetti straps and the right amount of cleavage, that hugs her body in just the right way and flows all the way down to her ankles. Her hair is pinned to the back of her head, with some loose curls framing her face.

Emma prays to all gods and saints to not let her trip on her own feet, while descending the stairs of the loft to meet both August and her father, with her mother right on her tail. She doesn't need to feel even more embarrassed.

When she finally dares herself to face August, her mouth goes a bit dry. He looks really handsome in a black tux, a dress shirt and a black tie. The second he lays eyes on her, he sends her such a look of adoration that it's almost too much, and she feels the urge to kiss him right there and then.

"Hi," she croaks out.

"Hi."

For a moment that's all they say. They've been friends for so long and they've never had a problem with words before. It's weird.

"This is for you," he breaks the awkward silence, handing her a small box.

She takes it from him and opens it, revealing a gardenia corsage with a light green ribbon that matches her eyes.

"It's beautiful," she whispers. "Help me put it on?"

He nods. They dance around a bit, trying to put the corsage around her wrist and both let out a playful chuckle when they finally succeed.

After that, Mary Margaret insists on taking a picture of the couple, despite Emma's complaints that they're going to be late.

"The more you complain, the longer I take to get the right picture," threatens her mother. "So I suggest you shut up and just let me get this done."

Emma obeys and when they're finally ready to leave, Mary Margaret hands her a light blue cardigan, "because it's cold outside," while David stares at August and tells him to "bring Emma back by eleven" in his most menacing voice. Emma resists the urge to roll her eyes to both of them, and drags August out of there.

As soon as they're on the outside, they smile at each other and August offers her his arm which she gladly accepts, looping hers through his. He then holds his father's old truck's door open for her to enter.

"I figured you wouldn't want to ride on my motorcycle with a dress and a helmet messing with your pretty hair," he starts. "By the way, you're really beautiful, Princess."

For the first time, she doesn't scold him for calling her that, because for the first time, she actually feels like a princess.

* * *

The dance has already started when they get there. Granny's was crowded with teens and they had to wait a while longer for their orders. Plus, the old lady kept teasing them, saying if Emma didn't take August, she would. That was a frisky old lady!

She looks around the gym – how original – and although she really dislikes those cheerleaders in charge of the prom's organization, she has to admit that the place looks magical, like a real Enchanted Forest, should those exist. It's like they've been transported into a clearing in a forest, where there appear to be stars hovering above them. But when they look closely, the stars are not really stars, but little fairies. The stage where the band performs looks like the outline of a palace or a castle, and there's a huge dragon on the left. And on the opposite side there's a carriage where everyone can take a picture.

Emma is absolutely amazed and when she turns to face August, he's looking at her dreamily with a soft smile playing on his lips. It's so sweet she almost doesn't notice the red hat with a red feather on one of the sides he's now wearing. She frowns, confused. Where the hell did that come from?

"So, who are you supposed to be?" he asks, before she has the time to voice her question.

She hasn't given much thought as to which fairytale she is representing, and if her mother hadn't gotten that dress for her, she'd most likely inspire her outfit on some warrior princess, like Mulan. However, she points at the dagger-shaped hairpin holding her hair.

"Prince Charming," she states, proudly, to which August responds by laughing out loud. She glares at him and he has the decency to look sorry for laughing at her.

"I'm sorry, Princess, but you look way more like Snow White than Prince Charming."

Emma crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"What's the deal with that hat anyway," she counters.

"I'm Pinocchio. You know how selfish I am for wanting you all to myself," he confesses with a smile on his face that makes her blush. "Plus, just like his father, mine is a carpenter. It just seems fitting."

She wasn't expecting that, at all. This night seems really promising.

He excuses himself then to go fetch drinks for the both of them and soon the cheerleaders swarm around him. That's why she doesn't like them. They want all the hot jocks and the hot non-jocks. August doesn't pay much attention to them, though, and he's beside Emma as soon as he possible, handing her a cup of punch.

She takes a sip from her cup, staring at him from the corner of her eye. He seems calm and confident now, unlike a few hours ago; he's more like himself. Honestly, she can't imagine her high school experience without him. He's always been there for her, helping her when she's feeling down and keeping her on track when needed. That's when she realizes she's happy to have him in her life. In that moment, he stares back at her, giving her a warm smile, sending butterflies to her stomach. Yes, she's definitely falling for him, and apparently, he's into her, too. But, how can she be sure?

"Aren't you going to ask me to dance?"

He averts his gaze for a second, embarrassed.

"Dancing is not really my thing, Emma."

She gives him a little pout.

"Come on, August, are we going to spend the entire night standing here?"

Without waiting for his answer, she grabs his arm and pulls him to the dance floor, where everyone else is already dancing and having fun. There's an upbeat song playing and Emma dances along playfully, while August just barely moves his feet, which makes Emma laugh.

By the time the fourth song starts, he's loosened up and makes awkward dance moves around her, or makes her twirl around him. They're having so much they barely even notice that some slow Lifehouse song starts playing in the background.

They look awkwardly at each other, while August offers her his hand tentatively, which she gladly accepts. He pulls her hand up to his shoulder and she snakes it around his neck, whereas his hand slides down her side and settles at the small of her back. She's never felt so safe, so she lays her head on his left shoulder and listens to his heartbeat while he gently sways with her.

"For someone who says dancing is not his thing, you're managing it pretty well," she tells him.

"Anything for you, Princess."

Emma lifts up her head and looks him in the eye. She wants to kiss him so much. All she has to do is lean her head up a little bit. August can read minds, apparently, because he starts to inch closer and closer and his breath tickles her cheek _and just a little bit further…_

The music stops. And Alexandra's voice comes through the speakers. They lean away and smile awkwardly at each other.

"Good evening, fellow colleagues. I hope you're having fun. We'll now proceed to announce the Senior Prom King and Queen."

Damn that wannabe princess.

* * *

"And how ridiculous was it that she crowned herself?"

Emma giggled. They've been inside Marco's truck, in front of her house, for over ten minutes, just gossiping and doing a recap of the ball. After the announcement of the Prom Royalty, they decided to take a picture in the carriage and go home. The party was dead anyway.

"Well," Emma starts. "I'd better go inside. It's already eleven and I think I've seen the curtains move."

August chuckles.

"Let me walk you to the door."

As soon as they're both out of the car, he offers her his arm again and she accepts it.

"I had a lot of fun tonight, August," she starts, "thank you."

"Thank _you_ for accepting my invitation," he replies with a smile.

She smiles back at him. It seems like she's smiling an awful lot lately, and it's all thanks to him. They're on her porch and she wishes they hadn't been interrupted earlier at prom because right now she doesn't know how to approach him again.

"So," he fumbles with words, "I also had a lot of fun tonight."

She nods, blushing a little bit, without knowing why.

"See you tomorrow, then?"

"Sure, Princess."

She turns around and introduces her key on the door lock.

"You know what?"

Emma spins around, with a curious look and a quirked eyebrow. Not wasting another second, August cups her face in both his hands and pulls her lips to his. She only had the time to register how great his lips feel against hers, soft and sweet and perfect, and then his tongue brushes against her lower lip, which almost makes her forget how to breathe.

He breaks the kiss too soon for her liking and links his forehead to hers.

"Emma," he breathes out, as if he can't really believe they've just kissed. To be honest, she's not certain as well. It all seems like a dream. A really good dream she doesn't want to wake up from.

"Are you trying to make me fall in love with you?"

"Am I succeeding?" That it is, his trademark shit-eating grin that she loves so much.

"Maybe."

"That's all I've ever wanted, Princess."

And he kisses her again. High school is not so bad after all.


End file.
